


Kiss with a Fist

by icyvanity



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Face Punching, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6553954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icyvanity/pseuds/icyvanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrew wakes from a nightmare, lashing out at the only person around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss with a Fist

**Author's Note:**

> #17: things you said that I wish you hadn’t (requested by anonymous)

Neil could tell something was wrong as soon as he woke. The sheets were sweaty and stretched tight as Andrew shifted back and forth beneath them. His fists were twisted tight in the fabric, and his face was scrunched up in an expression akin to pain.

Neil felt Nathaniel’s rage flow through him, usually locked away in some distant part of his brain but brought forward by the strength of Neil’s hatred; hatred for Drake and Proust, and all the others who came before. He knew where Andrew kept his knives, and he _knew_ exactly how to cut a man up until he was begging for death; sometimes he remembered he was his father’s son, but he would only let Nathaniel out to protect his family.

“Andrew,” he whispered instead, shoving Nathaniel down and pulling the tangled sheets back from his legs. “Andrew, it’s Neil.”

Andrew was panting through clenched teeth, his knuckles squeezed white against the sheets.

“ _Andrew_ ,” Neil said slightly louder, glancing around; Kevin wasn’t in his bed and Neil could see faint light filtering through the open door from the other room. He knew Andrew wouldn’t want Kevin to see him like this—he didn’t want Neil to, either, but it was inevitable.

He knew better to touch Andrew— _ever_ , without consent—especially when he was asleep and caught in a nightmare. But nothing was working. Neil shifted closer to Andrew, raising his voice slightly in attempt to break through Andrew’s nightmare.

“Andr—”

Andrew lashed out at him suddenly, a fist slamming straight into Neil’s face; there was enough force behind it that it threw Neil backwards off the bed and into a haze of darkness. Andrew woke as soon as he made contact with Neil and he was sitting up in bed, wide-eyed and shaking.

Neil, on the other hand, couldn’t even see. Andrew had caught him right between his eyes, and Neil was holding a hand to his face to make sure they were still in his head.

 “Andrew?” He tried again, coughing.

“Neil, I—” Andrew started, knotting his fingers in the sheets once again.

“What the fuck? _Neil?_ ” Kevin came running into the room, surveying the scene before him with increasing agitation. He dropped to his knees in front of Neil, holding his hand in front of Neil’s face, “How many fingers?”

Neil shrugged, dropping his own hand, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Kevin swore. “Call Abby,” he bit out to Andrew.

Andrew flexed one hand, fumbling down next to the bed for his phone. Neil had programmed all “essential” numbers into his phone weeks ago, and he found Abby without much difficulty.

She answered on the sixth ring, yawning. “Hello?”

“It’s Andrew.”

“ _Andrew_? What’s wrong?” Abby asked, suddenly alert. (In the background, he could hear Wymack grumbling, “What does he want?”)

“It-It’s Neil.”

“ _Neil?”_ (“Oh, fuck. What did Josten do now?”)

Kevin tore the phone from Andrew’s hand, still holding his other in front of Neil’s face. “Looks like Andrew punched Neil accidentally—yes, accidentally—and Neil can’t fucking see.” He paused, waiting for Abby (and Wymack) to respond. “I doubt it’s permanent. We should all pray it isn’t. The Moriyamas won’t have it.”

Andrew felt sick. If Neil was permanently injured, the Moriyama’s wouldn’t hesitate before putting a bullet in his head.

Kevin continued, “So, I should bring him there? Oh, you’ll come here? That’s probably better—I don’t want to move him.”

Andrew eased himself off of the bed, reaching down for his discarded clothes. Once he was fully dressed, he stood up. Before he could leave the room, Neil stopped him.

“Andrew,” he said—he didn’t even sound angry, and that made Andrew hate himself even more. “It’s okay.”

Andrew walked around the two on the floor, ignoring Kevin’s protests. He grabbed his keys from their hook next to the door, and left the dorm. He needed to go for a drive.

* * *

Neil’s face was at least ten degrees colder than the rest of his body, thanks to Abby and Kevin’s hovering and constant application of ice to his entire head. The three of them had been camped out in the bathroom for at least an hour when Neil was able to slip away; he glanced in the mirror as he passed it, noting the purple skin spreading across the center of his face—and gifting him with two magnificent black eyes.

Neil sat against the windowsill, watching for any movement in the parking lot down below to signal Andrew’s return. Neil was pointedly not looking at their— _Andrew’s_ —bunk, where the sheets were still twisted and bunched from Andrew’s nightmare.

A flash of light caught his attention; a familiar car was pulling into its usual parking space. Neil could hear the slam of the door from his spot beside the open window. He got to his feet, trying to keep his legs from wobbling as he left the bedroom. Abby and Kevin were, _thankfully_ , still in the bathroom—probably discussing his recovery process—as Neil snuck out of the dorm.

He made it to the roof before Andrew, but the door opened only a minute later. Neil chose to look out at the campus instead of at Andrew, letting Andrew decide how much he wanted to see. Neil heard keys hit the ground, and then quick, purposeful steps across the gravel before Andrew grabbed his wrist, spinning him around so fast he almost got whiplash.

Andrew’s other hand closed around Neil’s neck; it spasmed as Andrew took in the bruising.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Neil said, trying to catch Andrew’s eyes. Considering where Andrew was looking, that shouldn’t have been a difficult task; however, Andrew Minyard was nothing if not stubborn.

His hand tightened. He opened his mouth and then closed it. Finally, he pushed Neil away from him.

“I mean it, Andrew.”

“Shut up,” Andrew spit out.

“Andrew—”

“I said _shut up_.”

Neil knew better than to push his luck with Andrew, and fell silent. Instead he watched Andrew, saw the fire settled in his eyes—anger not at Neil, or at his past, but at _himself_. Neil didn’t know how to convince him that he didn’t blame Andrew too.

“Kevin was right,” Andrew said, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and looking away. “I could have blinded you.”

“So could the sun, and yet I still go outside.”

“You’re insufferable,” Andrew breathed out.

“I’m aware,” Neil said, shrugging. He reached for Andrew’s wrist slowly, giving him a chance to pull it away. When he didn’t, Neil wrapped a hand around it, feeling the scars at his pulse. “This okay?”

Andrew glared up at him but nodded.

“You didn’t blind me. I don’t even have a concussion; just some bruising and it’s not as though my face has never looked worse,” Neil pointed out, gesturing to the scars marring his cheeks with his free hand.

“If you couldn’t play exy anymore, the Moriyamas would kill you in an instant,” Andrew said bluntly. Neil felt Andrew’s pulse jump, and he understood.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly.

Andrew huffed out a breath, “I don’t think they would give you a choice.”

Neil tightened his grip, looking down into Andrew’s eyes. The burning anger had seeped out, leaving Andrew looking more vulnerable than he usually was. Neil refused to exploit that, to be like _them_ in any way.

“You wouldn’t let them take me without a fight,” he said with a grin.

Andrew glared at him.

“I bet you would deliver me straight to them. Probably just if I pissed you off, not because of any lasting injury.”

“Careful, Josten,” Andrew warned, but his eyes were content; Neil knew that things were alright between them again. “I might be getting tired of that smart mouth.”

“You love it,” Neil chuckled, tugging Andrew forward by his wrist.

“On the contrary,” Andrew said, but kissed him soundly.

**Author's Note:**

> [read on tumblr](http://lady-gryffindor.tumblr.com/post/142799293033/17-andreil)


End file.
